


The Boys of Summer

by connorwalshruinedmylife (shewantstoplayhearts)



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Brief Smut, M/M, a bit of angst, high school/college au, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:05:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewantstoplayhearts/pseuds/connorwalshruinedmylife
Summary: The thing about living in a small town is, it's really hard to completely avoid driving by your ex's house. And okay, maybe sometimes Connor deliberately takes that route, but it's not like it matters, really. He knows Oliver isn't there. Knows that he's across the country meeting new people that aren't Connor, and having experiences that Connor will never get to be a part of. And it hurts, it really fucking hurts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in three years, but I was listening to The Boys of Summer by Don Henley and it made me think of Coliver, so this happened.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at lilafowlers

“Oh fuck. Holy shit!”  
Connor raises his eyes, and had his mouth not been otherwise preoccupied he would’ve smirked at the sight of the school’s quarterback falling apart because of him. It doesn’t take long until he’s finished him off – it never does with these closeted macho-man types – and he pulls away, standing and dusting off his jeans.  
“I guess the rumors are true,” Quarterback says as he zips up his pants.  
“Rumors?”  
“That you’ll go down on anyone, anytime.” He pushes past Connor to leave the empty locker room, but suddenly spins around and grabs Connor’s arm. He roughly yanks him to his side, then hisses in his ear, “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll fucking end you.”  
He shoves Connor against a locker and then he’s gone, and Connor is left alone to stare incredulously after him.  
“How’s that for thanks?” He grumbles. “Fucking jocks. Never again.”  
He picks up his backpack and heads out to his car. There’s only one other car besides his left in the parking lot, school having ended well over an hour ago. He throws his backpack onto the passenger seat, then reaches into his glovebox and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He slips one out and grabs his lighter, then makes his way to the front of the car. He hops up onto the hood and lights his cigarette, then lays back and takes a deep drag. It’s late May, and the air is getting warmer, summertime fast approaching. Graduation is in a few weeks, and Connor can’t fucking wait to be done. He has plans to spend his summer on the beach, maybe find a couple of boys here on holiday to fool around with. The summertime boys are always the best fucks, in Connor’s self-declared expert opinion, their inhibitions gone in a haze of drunken partying and lazy beach days.  
The sound of books and folders hitting the ground interrupts Connor’s thoughts, and he sits up. There’s a boy a few feet away, kneeling down and fumbling with a pile of dropped school books.  
It’s that nerdy Oliver Hampton, he realizes. He watches him for a moment, thinks that Oliver is sort of cute, in an awkward and totally not Connor’s usual type at all kind of way.  
“Need any help?” He calls out, surprising himself.  
It appears he’s surprised Oliver as well, because the other boy lifts his head quickly and flushes a deep red.  
“N-no, I’m okay. Thanks.” He stutters. Connor ignores him and slides off the hood of his car. He drops his cigarette on the ground and steps on it to put it out, then heads over to the flustered boy. He picks up one of Oliver’s books, turning it over to read the title.  
“Algebra for Computer Science?” He wrinkles his nose. “God, you’re here reading books like this and I’m still stuck on Basic Math for Dummies.”  
Oliver laughs, looking a little less nervous. He has a nice laugh, Connor thinks.  
“Anyway, here,” he reaches out and takes a few books off the pile in Oliver’s arms. “Let me help you carry these to your car.”  
“You really don’t have to,” Oliver says softly, eyes on the ground in front of him. His face is still red with embarrassment.  
“It’s really not a problem.”  
Oliver stands up and finally makes eye contact with Connor. “Why are you being so nice to me?”  
Connor frowns. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
“Well, I mean…you’re you. The effortlessly cool and mysterious Connor Walsh. And I’m me,” he gestures at himself, shaking his head. “I’m used to people making fun of me and hassling me, not helping me.”  
Oliver looks sad, and Connor feels a twinge of guilt. He knows Oliver doesn’t have many friends, that he’s the biggest target in school for bullying. He’s never participated in any of it, but he’s also never stopped it from happening either, even when he could have at least tried.  
“I’m sorry, Oliver.”  
“It’s not your fault, Connor.”  
“I know, but I’m still sorry. I know it’s probably too little too late, but you’re welcome to come join us at lunch tomorrow.”  
Oliver gives him a small smile. “Thanks, I guess.”  
“You’re welcome, I guess.”  
Oliver chuckles again, and Connor can’t help but grin. He follows the other boy over to his car, waits patiently while Oliver unlocks it and dumps his pile of books inside. He reaches for the ones in Connor’s hands, and their fingers brush slightly. Oliver blushes again, Connor notices. Interesting.  
“Well, thanks again, Connor. Have a good night.”  
“Yeah, you too.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to head back to his own car, then stops and turns around again. “Hey Oliver?”  
“Yeah?”  
“It really isn’t effortless at all.”

 

The house is empty when Connor gets home that night. It’s always empty, since the divorce. His dad lives a few towns over now, with his new wife and baby son who probably won’t end up being as much of a fuck-up as Connor is. His mom is...god knows where. Probably off on another business trip. Or maybe another vacation with her wealthy boyfriend. He stopped trying to keep track of her whereabouts months ago.  
He sinks down onto the worn in couch in the living room, switching the tv on to some reality show, and grabs his laptop from where he’d left it on the floor the night before. He feels a bit silly, but he searches for Oliver’s Facebook account and spends a good half an hour looking at it. There aren’t many pictures of Oliver with other people, he notices, and it makes him feel sad. Before today, he hadn’t had a conversation with Oliver since Freshman year. Connor had moved into town in fifth grade, and already Oliver was being singled out as the know-it-all geek. By the time they got to high school, Oliver had been firmly placed at the bottom of the social ladder. Alone.  
And now, Connor thinks as he gets ready for bed, making sure to lock the doors and turn off every light because there wouldn’t be anyone else around to do it, he also knows what it feels like to be alone. And it sucks. It really fucking sucks.

 

There’s no sign of Oliver at lunch the next day, though Connor keeps an eye out for him as he constantly scans the cafeteria.  
“Earth to Connor,” Laurel waves her hand in front of Connor’s face, and he blinks.  
“What?”  
“You’ve been pretty distracted all lunch,” Asher says, taking a bite of his apple. “Who are you looking for?”  
“First of all, Asher, don’t speak with your mouth full.” Michaela hits her boyfriend on the back of his head playfully. “Secondly, Connor, we want to know if you’re going to be meeting us on the boardwalk after school. Wes is convinced he’s finally going to be able to beat the ring toss and we’re all going to be there to laugh at him when he fails yet again.”  
“Um, yeah, I’ll be there.” Connor stands up. “I gotta go now, guys. I’ll see you later.”  
He leaves before they start to question him. He doesn’t understand why Oliver blew off his lunch offer, and he wants to find him. His search is unsuccessful, however, and he heads to class feeling a bit disappointed. They’re not in any of the same classes this semester, so Connor hurries to where he hopes Oliver’s car will be parked as soon as the bell rings at the end of the day. He’s in luck, Oliver’s parked in the same spot he was yesterday. Connor sends a message to his friends in their group chat, letting them know that he’ll meet them at the boardwalk later, then leans against the other boy’s car and settles in to wait for Oliver.  
The parking lot empties quickly, leaving only his car and Oliver’s once again. And then, finally, he spots Oliver walking towards him. His arms are free of books this time, and he runs his hand through his hair as he approaches Connor.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Waiting for you,” Connor stands up straight and takes a step towards him.  
“Obviously, but why?”  
Connor shrugs. “Why didn’t you show up to lunch today?”  
“You…you were serious about that?” Oliver looks confused.  
“No, Oliver, I just invited you to lunch as a joke. Of course I was serious about it.”  
Oliver bit his lower lip and looked down. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone invited me somewhere as a joke. I was a bit paranoid.”  
Oliver looks sad, and Connor can’t stand it.  
“Well hey, a bunch of us are going over to the boardwalk to hang out. Why don’t you come along?”  
“Are you sure they won’t mind?”  
“Of course not. Come on, I’ll drive and then I’ll bring you back here to your car later, okay?”  
Oliver nods, smiling softly.

The car ride to the beach goes better than Connor hoped it would. Oliver loosens up and even manages to crack a joke or two. By the time they’ve parked and are heading over to the boardwalk, they’re laughing like they’ve been friends for ages.  
“You should laugh more often,” Connor tells him as they get out of the car. “It looks good on you.”  
Oliver waves his hand as if to blow off his compliment, but there’s a tinge of pink to his cheeks that makes Connor wonder if he just naturally blushes at attention, or if he’s blushing because it’s Connor giving him the attention. He sort of hopes it’s the latter, but he quickly brushes that thought aside.  
To say the others are surprised to see Oliver there is an understatement, but while they keep giving Connor inquisitive looks that he steadfastly ignores, they don’t let Oliver feel like an outsider for even a minute. They can drive him crazy sometimes, but Connor really fucking loves his friends.  
It isn’t until later, when Oliver and Wes are competing to see who can try beat the ring toss, that Michaela pulls Connor aside.  
“What are you doing with him, Connor? You know he isn’t like the others.” her tone is soft, but accusing, and Connor is immediately defensive.  
“I’m just being a friend to him, Michaela, Jesus. I don’t actually fuck every guy I spend time with, despite what you may hear around school.”  
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Michaela says lowly. “And you know I don’t give a shit what anyone says about you. I’m just confused as to why you’re suddenly friends with Oliver. It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that none of us even know you guys talked, let alone hung out.”  
“Worried he’s replacing you as my best friend?” Connor teases her.  
“Fuck off Walsh, I’d be relieved if someone else took my place as the number one person you whine to.” She’s laughing though, and Connor wraps his arm around her shoulder.  
“I like him,” he admits quietly. “I mean, just as a friend. There’s no romantic interest there, I swear. He’s just…he’s really funny, in an unexpected way. He’s just…he’s different.”  
Michaela is looking at him funny, and Connor is relieved when the sound of cheering and Wes’s long cry of “Noooooo!!” interrupts them. They both glance over at their friends and find Wes on his knees, pretending to be devastated, while Asher and Laurel have managed to hoist Oliver up and are carrying him around like he’s just won the world cup for them or something. Oliver is laughing, his entire face lit up in joy. The sight of it makes Connor feel warm all over.  
They decide to split an extra large pizza for dinner, and Connor and Oliver are quickly banned from any decision making about toppings when they both suggest anchovies. They settle into the booth to wait for the others to order and join them. Oliver’s got his stuffed bear he won from the ring toss, and Connor nudges him.  
“You’re a hero, by the way. Wes has been insufferable about trying to win that game, and now you’ve defeated him.”  
Oliver grins and picks up the stuffed bear, holding it like an Oscar. “I want to thank the Academy for this award. And thank you to all the people who played such an important part in me winning – to the little people, who cheered me on while I struggled and then celebrated with me after I won. To Wes for being so unbelievably bad at the game. And,” he pauses dramatically, “to Connor, for believing in me from the start.”  
The others have joined them by now, and they all fake applaud Oliver while he bows as well as he can while seated at a table. The settle in to eat, and it isn’t until later, when everyone is distracted, that Connor leans closer to Oliver and whispers, “I do, you know. I do believe in you.”  
He pulls away before Oliver can respond.

 

It’s later that night, and they’re parked in Connor’s car next to Oliver’s in the school parking lot. They’ve been parked there for a while, talking about how much they can’t wait to be done with school. Oliver tells Connor he’s been accepted into Stanford and will be moving to California in the fall. Connor tells Oliver that he isn’t smart enough, so he didn’t apply anywhere besides the state school, which is easy to get into, so he’ll be staying at home. It’s only a forty-five minute drive from where they live, so there’s not much point to him moving out since he has the house to himself most of the time anyway.  
Oliver frowns when he hears Connor say he isn’t smart. “Don’t put yourself down like that, I bet you’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for.”  
“Nice of you to have faith in me, but it’s horribly misplaced.”  
Oliver looks at him, eyes soft. “I don’t think it is. And thanks for inviting me out today. I had a lot of fun.”  
“I’m glad you came. Sit with us at lunch next week, okay?”  
“Okay.” Oliver gets out of the car, and Connor grabs the teddy bear he’s left on the floor.  
“Hey, don’t forget this.”  
Oliver looks back at him. “Keep it,” he gives Connor a quick smile, then closes the door and gets into his own car.  
Connor absolutely does not watch him drive away, and he most definitely does not go home and place the bear on his desk, where he stares at it while he lays on his bed, his mind swimming with thoughts he isn’t sure he’s ready for.


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver does join them at lunch every day that next week, and Connor waits for him at his car every day after school. He’s somehow managed to convince Oliver to help him study for exams, so they spend evenings together at Connor’s, studying and making dinner together, and Oliver stays until he’s about to miss curfew. Connor still goes to bed in an empty house, but he doesn’t feel quite as alone anymore. 

Graduation day comes quickly, and that night the six of them settle at Connor’s house to celebrate. Asher’s managed to sneak some alcohol out of his house, and they’re all well on their way to being buzzed (or drunk, in Asher’s case), when Oliver pulls Connor aside.  
“Hey, can we talk somewhere in private?” He asks nervously, eyes darting at their friends.  
“Yeah, of course. Come on.” He leads the way into the kitchen, then turns and leans against the counter, folding his arms in front of him. “What’s up?”  
Oliver clears his throat.   
“I just wanted to thank you for making my last few weeks of high school a lot more enjoyable than the rest of it was. You didn’t have to take me in, but you did anyway, and it means a lot. So thank you. And, um, I’m gay.” He gives an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, I know that’s a rather abrupt way to come out, but you’re the first person I’ve actually told, outside of my family.”  
Connor stays silent, his mind racing and his hands feeling clammy. Oliver is gay, too. He had wondered, of course, but Oliver was such a hard person to read, so he hadn’t been entirely sure. But now he knows, he knows Oliver is gay, and Connor wants him so badly. And well, Connor’s not used to wanting someone in a way that wasn’t just lust-fueled. And it’s fucking terrifying, knowing that it’s taken less than two weeks for Oliver to break down Connor’s walls.  
“Um, can you please say something?” Oliver laughs, but it’s short and hollow sounding. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”  
“Because you scare the shit out of me!” The words slip out before Connor’s brain manages to catch up to his mouth. Oliver stands in front of him, mouth open and eyes wide, blinking quickly behind his glasses. It would be almost comical, if Connor wasn’t so freaked out by what was happening.  
“I scare you? How?” Oliver looks shocked.  
Connor takes a deep breath, his heart racing. It’s too late to back out now, though, so he steels his nerves and manages to choke out, “I think I like you.”  
Oliver chokes out a laugh, but it sounds strangled. “You think you like me?”  
“No, I do like you. I really do, and I’m not used to feeling like this.”   
It’s Oliver’s turn to stay silent, and Connor can feel his palms growing sweaty. “Please say something, Ollie.”  
He isn’t sure what he expects Oliver’s response to be, but it certainly isn’t what happens next. Oliver shakes his head, then steps forwards and grabs onto Connor’s shirt, pulling him closer and pressing their lips roughly against each other. It takes Connor a moment to get over the shock, then he’s kissing Oliver back, his hands slipping down to the other boy’s waist. He tugs him closer, pressing himself fully against him.   
“Go on a date with me,” he whispers between kisses. “Let me take you out somewhere.”  
The other boy nods eagerly, and Connor pulls back, bringing his hands up to cup Oliver’s cheeks. He leans forward to press one last kiss against his lips, then smiles and reaches down for his hand.  
“Come on, let’s get back in there.”  
The others notice their intertwined hands immediately, of course, and the room falls silent. Oliver takes in their incredulous faces and turns to Connor, looking concerned.  
“Um, I didn’t think they’d be this shocked by me being gay.”  
“We’re not in shock because you like boys, Oliver.” Laurel speaks up. “We’re in shock because we’ve been friends with Connor for years and we’ve never once seen him holding hands with anyone.”  
Connor just shrugs, pulling Oliver over to sit on the couch beside him. He keeps hold of Oliver’s hand and rests his head on the other boy’s shoulder. It’s all new to Connor, having someone who wants him for more than a quick fuck, and he feels happier than he has in a long time. He sees the way his friends are looking at them, confusion mixed with what he hopes is happiness for him.   
“Am I really the first boy you’ve held hands with like this?” Oliver whispers to him a little later on, after they’ve put on a movie and no one can overhear them.  
Connor nods. “Yeah.”  
He feels nervous, suddenly, like Oliver is going to judge him for always sleeping around without dating anyone. And it’s unsettling to Connor, because until now he’s never really cared what anyone thinks of him. But Oliver just squeezes his hand tighter, and Connor can see him trying to suppress a smile before he turns and kisses him quickly. They resume watching the movie, until about twenty minutes later when Oliver leans over to whisper in his ear.  
“I’m really glad you picked me.”  
Connor turns his head to look into Oliver’s eyes, and he feels his heart skip a beat as he sees the way Oliver is gazing back at him, his eyes soft and tender.  
“I’m really glad you picked me too, Ollie. You have no idea.” 

 

He's due to pick Oliver up for their first date in less than half an hour, and he’s currently standing in front of his open closet, panicking.   
“What am I supposed to wear on a date?” He riffles through his shirts, then turns to his best friend who is currently sitting on his bed, laughing at him. “It’s not funny, Michaela! Help me!”  
“Wear the black t-shirt with your dark jeans. You look hot in that outfit. He won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”  
Connor nods, changing quickly. He pulls on his worn in converse, then stands up and smirks at Michaela. “You think I’m hot, do you?”  
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Connor. I think you’re the sexiest man alive. It breaks my heart every day knowing that you’ll never want me back.”  
“Life’s hard, sweetheart, but you’ll get over it.” He laughs, barely manages to dodge the pillow that gets thrown at him. “But seriously, thanks for being here. I’m sure I’d be a nervous wreck without you.”  
“You mean this is you being calm?” she raises an eyebrow at him.  
“I can’t help it! I really like him, Michaela.”  
“Yeah, and you already know he likes you back. So don’t overthink it,” she stands to leave, wrapping her arms around Connor in a hug. “Just relax and go have fun.”  
“Thanks, babe.” Connor hugs her back. “Love you.”  
“Love you too, you emotionally stunted jackass.” She sticks out her tongue at him on her way out the door, laughing when Connor flips her off.  
He takes a moment to comb his hair and brush his teeth, then grabs his car keys and heads out.

His nerves disappear the moment Oliver opens the door. He looks so handsome, in a maroon top that makes his skin look tanner, and jeans that are definitely tighter than anything else Connor’s used to seeing him in.  
“Damn, you look good.”   
Oliver blushes, but can’t keep the smile off his face. “Thanks. Same to you, obviously.”  
“Obviously.” He flinches away from Oliver’s teasing slap on his arm. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”  
“Where are we going?” Oliver asks after they’re buckled into the car and Connor’s started driving.  
“I figured we could just do something lowkey tonight,” Connor shrugs. “So I put together a picnic basket for us. If you’d rather do something else that’s completely fine.”  
“No, that’s perfect.” Oliver reaches over squeezes Connor’s hand, and Connor smiles at him.  
They drive in silence, stealing quick glances at each other and smiling. They reach the beach and Connor parks, then leans over and presses a soft kiss against Oliver’s lips. “Thanks for coming out with me tonight.”  
He reaches into the back seat and grabs the picnic basket and the large blanket he’d left there, and he leads the way down onto the beach. The sun is starting to set, but there are still a few families left on the sand so they find a secluded spot to settle down. The kick off their shoes and socks, sinking their feet into the warm sand as the settle onto the blanket.  
“So, I kind of cheated and totally bought all the food instead of making it myself, but I figured I’d rather not risk giving you food poisoning on our first date.”  
He reaches into the basket and pulls out a couple of take out boxes and a bottle of wine he’d found in one of the cupboards at home. His mother wouldn’t miss it.   
“I didn’t know what you’d be in the mood for, so I got us some Thai food and some burgers. There’s also a salad in the basket if you’d prefer something healthier.” He’s nervous again, but one look at Oliver’s face lets him know there’s no reason to be.  
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”  
They eat until they’re full, sipping on the wine and talking as the sun goes down and the first stars start to come out. They pack away the now empty food boxes and lay back on the blanket, Connor resting his head on Oliver’s chest and wrapping an arm over him as he cuddles into his side. He feels the other boy press a kiss to the top of his head, and he sighs contentedly.   
They stay quiet, both just enjoying being so close to each other. Oliver runs his fingers over Connor’s arm, lazily drawing shapes into his skin. Connor opens his eyes after a while and gazes up at the sky.  
“This feels so surreal.” He says quietly. “I just can’t believe you actually like me back.”  
Oliver laughs. “You think it’s surreal? I spent the last two years crushing on someone I thought was completely out of my league, and now he’s telling me he can’t believe that I reciprocate his feelings. I never in a million years thought this would happen.”  
“Wait,” Connor moves so he’s laying on his stomach, facing Oliver. “You had a crush on me? Before we even started hanging out?”   
“Why do you sound so surprised? You were unbelievably sexy and mysterious, of course I had a crush on you.”  
“I was sexy and mysterious? What am I now?” Connor teases him, trying to deflect from the embarrassment he felt at Oliver’s compliment.  
“What, now that I’ve gotten to know you? Now I’m just wondering why anyone would ever think you’re cool. You’re still sort of cute though, I guess.”  
“Just cute? Not sexy anymore?” Connor pretends to pout.  
Oliver pretends to think about it for a moment, then shrugs and says, “nah, definitely not sexy anymore.”  
“Well, I’m just going to have to change your mind on that one, then.” Connor says, his voice husky. He moves so he’s on top of Oliver, then kisses him with fervor. It doesn’t take long until they’re making out, hands exploring each other’s body. Connor tugs at Oliver’s shirt, and he raises his torso up to make it easier for Connor to pull it off of him. He disposes of his own shirt, then presses himself against Oliver again. The feeling of skin on skin isn’t something Connor is a stranger to, but this is the first time in his eighteen years of life that the body pressed against his belongs to someone who actually wants him for him, not because they’re just horny and would fuck anyone who was willing.  
They make out for a while, and usually Connor would be well on his way to being completely naked, but Oliver is different to the other boys Connor’s been with. He’s so, so different, and Connor doesn’t want to do anything to scare him off. So he reluctantly breaks away and stands up, reaching for Oliver’s hand and helping him up as well.  
“How do you feel about a moonlight swim?”   
“Sounds great, but I didn’t bring any swimming trunks.”  
“Neither did I,” Connor shrugs, then unbuttons his pants and tugs them off, so he’s standing in his boxer briefs. It definitely doesn’t escape his notice that Oliver’s eyes immediately dart down to his crotch, then back up again quickly. He winks at Oliver, then turns and starts running towards the ocean. “Come on!”  
The water is warm as he wades in, and he dives under a wave as soon as he’s far out enough to not worry about hitting directly into the sand. Oliver’s joined him by the time he surfaces, so he swims over to him and leaps up, knocking the other boy over and getting a face full of salt water in the process. He comes up sputtering, as does Oliver, but they move to where their feet can touch the sand beneath them, then stand wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing passionately.   
“So, do you think I’m sexy again?” Connor asks with a smirk after they finally part.  
“Hands down the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen,” Oliver confirms, kissing Connor again.  
They finally make their way to the shore when their fingers start getting pruny. They pull their clothes back on over their wet underwear, then quickly pack up their leftovers and the blanket and make their way to Connor’s car.  
“Thanks for tonight, Connor. I had a really good time.”  
Connor smiles at him. “Me too. Don’t really want to say goodbye to you yet, to be honest.”  
“Neither do I,” Oliver says softly. “You know, Netflix has a bunch of new shows I’ve been dying to watch. We could go back to your place and make some popcorn and watch something?”  
“So we’re gonna Netflix and chill?” Connor teases him.  
“In the literal sense of the phrase, yes. I’m not gonna put out on the first date, Walsh.” There’s humor in his voice, though, so Connor pretends to pout as he starts the car and heads home.  
They take turns showering, rinsing themselves clean of sand and salt water. Connor leaves a pair of his sweatpants and a shirt for Oliver to borrow and heads downstairs to the kitchen, where he sets about making some popcorn and tea. He’s just placing the steaming mugs onto the coffee table when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns around and his heart feels like it does a flip at the sight of Oliver in his clothes.  
Connor is so, so screwed.  
“Here,” he hands Oliver the remote. “Put the tv on and pick something, I’ll go grab the popcorn.”  
Once in the kitchen he grabs his phone from where he’d left it on the counter. There’s a text from Michaela, asking how is date was, and one from Asher comprised solely of a string of emojis that he can only assume is meant to imply something sexual. He sends the emoji giving the middle finger back to Asher, then opens up his text conversation with Michaela.  
Date’s still not over. He’s currently on my couch wearing my pajamas and I am so, so screwed. But not literally. Apparently he doesn’t do that on the first date. I’m surprisingly okay with that? Help.  
He doesn’t wait for a response, just plugs his phone in to charge and heads back into the living room. He settles down next to Oliver and cuddles into his side.   
“So, what are we watching?”  
“It’s a documentary about the invention of the first computer, comparing technology from then to how advanced we are now.”  
“Sounds…interesting.” Connor lies, getting ready to be really, really bored. But to his relief Oliver laughs.  
“I’m totally kidding. Your face was priceless though.”  
Connor lifts up a pillow and hits him. “Jerk. So what are we really watching?”  
“How about some Forensic Files?”  
“Mm, sounds good.” He reaches for the mugs of tea, handing one to Oliver before he curls back up beside him.  
They cuddle while they watch, and Connor can feel himself growing tired. He stretches out on the couch and rests his head on Oliver’s lap, letting the feeling of the other boy running his fingers through his hair lull him to sleep.

 

There’s a warm body pressed against his when he wakes up, and Connor sighs with contentment. He maneuvers himself so he’s facing Oliver without falling off the couch. His movements wake the other boy, and they smile at each other.  
“Good morning, gorgeous.” He gives Oliver a chaste kiss, aware that they both probably have terrible morning breath after not brushing their teeth the night before. “There’s an unopened toothbrush I got from the dentist a few years ago in the guest bathroom. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”  
He reluctantly forces himself off the couch and hurries upstairs to brush his own teeth. He fixes his hair quickly in the mirror and makes his way back downstairs. Oliver’s already rummaging through his fridge, pulling out eggs and some bacon.   
“Breakfast?” He holds them up and Connor nods.  
“Sounds perfect.”  
They’re sitting at the kitchen table eating when they hear the front door open and Michaela appears in the kitchen doorway, having used the spare key Connor keeps hidden under the doormat. She’s obviously surprised to see Oliver, but she quickly schools her face into a neutral one and smiles at them.   
“Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I’ll come over later, Connor. Text me.” She’s gone before either boy can speak.  
“She totally thinks we fucked, doesn’t she.”  
“Probably,” Connor shrugs.  
“How many other guys has she walked in on you having breakfast with the morning after you’ve hooked up?”  
“There haven’t been any other guys, Ollie.” Connor’s never been ashamed of the fact that he likes sex, but he suddenly feels embarrassed telling Oliver this. “The guys I’ve been with before never really stuck around for the morning after.”  
Most of them didn’t bother to stick around longer than it took to pull their pants back up after they’ve fucked him, but he doesn’t need to tell Oliver that.  
Oliver rests his hand on top of Connor’s, squeezing lightly. “Their loss, then.”  
Connor steals glances at him throughout the rest of their meal, his heart full and a smile he couldn’t hide even if he tried. 

He drops Oliver off at home later that morning, then shoots a text to Michaela telling her to meet him at his place in an hour. He showers and cleans for a bit, then switches the tv on to waste time until his friend arrives. Asher’s with her this time, and she shrugs apologetically.  
“He refused to let me come here alone after he found out Oliver spent the night.”  
“Oh yeah, my boy C, getting the D!” He thrusts his hips and raises his hand for a high five, which both of them ignore.   
“We didn’t sleep together. Well, I mean we did, but there was no sex involved. We just fell asleep watching tv.” He can’t help but smile at the memory.  
“Oh my God, look at his face, Asher!” Michaela claps her hands together, grinning. “Connor’s in love!”  
“I’m not in love!” Connor protests. “We’ve only been on one date, for fuck’s sake.”  
“So? It’s not like you hardly know him. You’ve been hanging out with him every day for weeks now.”  
“I’m not in love with him, Michaela.”   
She raises her hands, shrugging in defeat. “Fine, you’re not in love with him. But you’re definitely getting there.”  
“I’m not!” he starts to argue, then sighs. “Okay fine, I think there’s the potential to maybe possibly fall in love with him one day.”  
She looks at him smugly. “I knew it.”  
“Oh be quiet,” Connor groans, reaching for the remote and turning the sound up on the tv. “I’m not in love with Oliver.”


	3. Chapter 3

Connor’s pretty sure he’s in love with Oliver.  
It’s late June, and they’ve spent the entire summer so far wrapped up in each other. It’s rare to find one of them without the other, and Connor’s even met Oliver’s parents. It wasn’t a formal meeting the parents situation, but he’d gone to pick Oliver up one day and they had been in the front yard, pulling weeds and doing some gardening. He’d tried to be as charming as possible, and it had apparently worked since Oliver told him the next day that his mom thought he was a “delightful, handsome young man” and that she approved of him as Oliver’s boyfriend.  
“I told her you aren’t my boyfriend and that we’re just hanging out,” Oliver says, cheeks pink. They’re sitting cross-legged on Connor’s bed, and Oliver starts playing with a frayed corner of his duvet.  
Connor just looks at him. “I don’t mind being called your boyfriend, you know.”  
“Okay.” Oliver looks up and grins. “So, I guess we’re in an official relationship then.”  
“I guess so. Should we shake on it?”  
“Nah, I’ve got a better idea.” And with that, Oliver pushes Connor back onto the bed, straddling him.  
“Yeah,” Connor gasps as Oliver reaches into his sweatpants and takes hold of his dick. “Your idea is definitely better.”

Sex with Oliver is hands down the best sex Connor has ever had. They spend hours in bed over the next few days, learning every inch of each other’s bodies. And Oliver, well, he’s definitely not the inexperienced shy boy Connor had thought he was.

“Where the hell did you learn a move like that?” Connor pants as he grasps at his bedsheets, his cock hard and aching beneath him as he stays on his knees, waiting for Oliver to put a condom on.  
Oliver laughs. “What, you think the only thing I do on my computer is write codes?”  
“Well I’m eternally thankful for gay porn, then. And I’m definitely thankful for your tongue.”  
Oliver laughs again, then positions himself behind Connor. “You ready?”  
“I’m always ready for you.”  
He feels pressure at his rim as Oliver slowly enters him.  
“You feel so good, baby.” Oliver moans as he bottoms out. “Always so, so good for me.”  
“Move,” Connor gasps. “Please, Ollie, I need you to move.”  
Oliver obliges, sliding back slightly before he thrusts forward, causing Connor to cry out. He goes slowly at first, long drags and deep thrusts that make Connor shake. He reaches for his cock, aching to be touched, but Oliver pulls his hand away.  
“Don’t. I don’t want you to come yet.”  
Connor whines, but he lowers his hand back onto the bed, bracing himself as Oliver starts fucking into him faster. And then suddenly he’s empty. He’s about to complain, but before he can open his mouth he hears Oliver’s voice.  
“Turn over. I want to see you.”  
Connor doesn’t think he’s ever moved this fast in his life, twisting onto his back and wrapping his legs around Oliver, raising his hips up to give him easier access. Oliver presses back inside him, gripping tightly onto Connor’s thighs as he holds them up, his cock pounding into Connor and making him feel so, so full. He runs his hands through Oliver’s hair, then pulls him down into a sloppy and desperate kiss. Oliver grunts, thrusting harder, and then he hits Connor’s prostate and Connor’s back is arching in pleasure, a string of “oh fuck, oh shit, oh my god” spilling from his lips. Oliver holds Connor in that position as he continues to fuck into him, his cock hitting against Connor’s prostate repeatedly until Connor is a trembling mess beneath him. He wraps a hand around Connor’s neglected cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts, and it isn’t long until Connor completely falls apart, hot cum squirting out over his stomach. Oliver fucks into him a few more times, then he’s coming too, filling the condom with his own cum. He pulls out and disposes of the condom, then collapses next to Connor on the bed. They don’t speak, just lay beside each other panting as they come down from their highs.  
“God, I’m such a mess,” Connor groans several minutes later as he runs a hand through the cum drying on his stomach.  
“I’ll get you a washcloth,” Oliver offers, but Connor shakes his head.  
“Let’s have a bath instead.”  
Oliver follows him into the bathroom and waits as Connor runs the water, adding a few bubbles and threatening bodily harm if Oliver ever breathes so much as a word about him owning bubble bath to the others.  
Connor gets in first, and Oliver climbs in behind him, stretching out his legs on either side of Connor and wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close as he lay back against the tub.  
They’ve never done this before, and Connor finds it surprisingly a lot more intimate than the sex they’d just had. He sighs contentedly and turns his head to press a kiss against Oliver’s shoulder.  
“You make me so happy, Ollie.”  
“The feeling is mutual, babe.”  
They lay there for a while, until the water starts getting cold, then they stumble back into Connor’s room and bundle up into their pajamas – Oliver leaves a pair of his own at Connor’s house now – and Connor quickly changes the sheets before they both curl up in each other’s arms. Oliver falls asleep first, and as Connor watches him breathing deeply and peacefully, he’s reminded of a quote from a book he’d had to read in his English class a few years ago. He’d rolled his eyes when he’d read it, but he gets it now. He too feels a self-crushing kind of love as he watches his boyfriend sleep. And, he thinks, he too can feel his soul crawl out of its hiding place.  


“You’re going to burn if you don’t put sunscreen on.”  
Oliver’s voice startles Connor, and he turns his head towards where he knows Oliver is laying and opens his eyes, squinting at him.  
“Mm, don’t care. I’m too sleepy.” He closes his eyes again and sighs contentedly, letting the sound of the ocean lull him into a peaceful doze. It doesn’t last long, because he’s suddenly woken up by Oliver straddling him. He opens his eyes and smirks at him. “Ollie, you know I love when you ride me, but we’re on a public beach. Have some decency.”  
Oliver rolls his eyes.  
“Shut up, you idiot. First of all,” he gestures at the dunes that separate them from the rest of the beach goers, “we’re pretty isolated, so if I wanted to ride you, the only thing that would give us away is your inability to be quiet. And secondly, I’m doing you a favor so maybe you should appreciate me for being the best boyfriend in the world.”  
He leans down and gives Connor a quick kiss, then reaches for his bottle of sunscreen and pops it open. He drizzles some onto Connor’s chest and starts to rub it in gently, and Connor grins.  
“Hey, this reminds me of last night.”  
“Shut up!” Oliver laughs, hitting him. Connor sticks out his tongue then shuts his eyes again, staying quiet as Oliver finishes covering his front with sun screen, rolling over when he’s ordered to.  
It’s been a week since he realized he’s in love with Oliver, and he’s been trying to work up the nerve to tell him. He’s never told anyone he loves them before, at least not in a romantic sense, and he’s more than a little terrified of being that vulnerable with another person.  
“Do you want anything to drink?” Oliver’s over at their cooler, rummaging through the piles of ice to find the sodas they’d stashed in there.  
“Yeah, thanks,” Connor sits up, watching as Oliver scoops some ice into a solo cup and opens Connor’s coke for him, pouring it into the cup before he sticks a straw in it and passes it to him.  
And God, Oliver’s always doing things like that for him. He takes care of him, from small things like pouring a soda, to cooking him dinner most nights, to taking the time to make sure he’s protected from the sun. Things that no one else would think to do for him. Connor feels his hands sweating slightly, and he’s so, so fucking nervous, but he opens his mouth and forces himself to say it.  
“Ollie?”  
“Hmm?” Oliver looks at him quizzically.  
“I, um, I just…” God, he’s so not eloquent when it matters. “I love you, Ollie.”  
The nerves completely disappear when he sees the way Oliver’s face lights up. He crawls over to Connor and kisses him passionately.  
“I love you too. So much.”  
They probably look like idiots when they finally make their way back to the car a few hours later, both of them unable to keep from grinning widely, but Connor really doesn’t give a shit. He’s in love, and it’s the best feeling in the world.  
They have slow, passionate sex that night, their bodies moving together and mouths pressing against each other’s tenderly. Connor wants to freeze time, to stay with Oliver like this forever. But summer is ending soon, and Oliver will be leaving him for California. Connor doesn’t want to think about it, so he kisses Oliver harder, like it could make all their problems fade away. 

Summer draws to a close, and there are goodbye parties for their friends before they head off to college. Connor and Asher are the only two going to the state school, but Asher will be living on campus so he decides to have a going away party as well.  
Connor doesn’t want to think about his friends leaving him, and he definitely doesn’t want to think about Ollie leaving for California soon. He knows he should be having fun, spending time with his friends before they all head off to start their futures, but instead he’s sitting alone on the steps of Asher’s front porch, drinking a beer and feeling sorry for himself. The noise from the party gets louder as the door opens behind him, and he hears Oliver’s voice.  
“Connor?”  
“Hey,” he turns and tries to smile, but it clearly falls short because Oliver immediately shuts the door and hurries over, taking a seat so close that he’s pressed against Connor’s side.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I’m just being dumb, don’t worry about me.” He shrugs, trying to play it off.  
“I’m always going to worry about you. I love you.”  
Connor sighs and rests his head on Oliver’s shoulder.  
“I’m gonna miss you so much.” He hates the way his voice chokes up as he speaks.  
“Oh sweetheart.” Oliver wraps an arm around him, then takes hold of Connor’s hand with his free one. “I’m going to miss you too, you know I am. But we’ll talk and Skype all the time, and it’s not too long until Thanksgiving and I’ll be home again. And then there’s the Christmas break, and Spring break, and then it’ll be summer again and we can spend all our time together.”  
Connor sniffles. “I know. It’s just going to be so weird, not being able to see you every day and not being able to kiss you. And God, I’m gonna miss your dick.”  
They both laugh, but it’s short and they quickly fall back into a melancholy silence.  
“I love you so much Ollie,” Connor finally speaks again. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”  
“Wow, I know the sex is good, but I didn’t know you thought it was that good.”  
“Oh my god, shut up!” Connor nudges Oliver with his shoulder, knocking him sideways a bit. “I wasn’t talking about sex. Although to be fair, it is pretty phenomenal. I just mean that…” he bites his lower lip, trying to think of a way to phrase it so Oliver understands just how important he is to him. “I’ve spent the last few years looking out for myself. My dad left and I don’t even remember the last time we spoke. I see my mom maybe once every few weeks, if that. Sometimes I think she wishes she didn’t have me, like I get in the way of her lifestyle or something. You’re the only one who really cares about me, and that means more than you’ll ever know. It scares me, being this vulnerable with someone, but I need you to know how important you are to me. You mean everything to me, Ollie.”  
He looks at Oliver, and notices tears in the other boy’s eyes.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?”  
Oliver shakes his head. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just a little bit overwhelming, hearing you say that. I love you so much, Connor, and sometimes I can hardly believe my luck that you love me back.”  
Connor grabs the front of Oliver’s shirt, tugging him closer and kissing him hard. Oliver wraps his hands around his waist, hands slipping up the bottom of his shirt to feel Connor’s skin.  
They reluctantly part when they hear cheering from inside.  
“Come on, we’d better get back to the party.” Oliver stands, then helps Connor to his feet. “But just want until I get you alone later,” he winks at Connor before heading back inside.

Oliver stays over at Connor’s house the night before he leaves for college. They don’t sleep at all, just spend the hours in Connor’s bed, wrapped up in each other, making love and talking until the sun rises.  
“I’d better go,” Oliver says sadly. “My parents wanted to go out for breakfast before they take me to the airport.”  
Connor nods, not trusting himself to speak.  
“Hey,” Oliver whispers, lifting Connor’s head so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. “I love you so much, baby. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”  
“Okay,” Connor hates how choked up his voice sounds. Oliver kisses him before getting off the bed and getting dressed. Connor stays in his underwear as he follows Oliver downstairs and to the front door. Oliver turns to him, pulling him into one last kiss.  
“I love you, Connor.”  
“Love you too.”  
And then Oliver is gone, and Connor drags himself back upstairs, feeling exhausted both physically and emotionally. He crawls back into bed and lays down on the side where Oliver had been. He tucks a hand under the pillow and feels something there. He pushes the pillow aside and finds Oliver’s sweater, along with a folded note.

Something to keep you warm until I can.  
I love you more than anything.  
xx Ollie

Connor feels tears welling up in his eyes and he wipes them away quickly. He pulls on Oliver’s sweater, then curls up and falls asleep, breathing in his boyfriend’s scent.


	4. Chapter 4

The first few months pass agonizingly slowly. They’re both busy with school, but they make sure to Facetime at least once every day. Connor listens while Oliver tells him stories of going places and doing things with his new friends out there, and he tries not to feel jealous.   
“I’m happy for him, of course I am.” He tells Asher one day while they’re studying together in the library.   
“Are you really, though?” Asher looks at him skeptically. “I mean, you never sound happy when you tell me about what he’s been doing.”  
“Of course I’m happy he’s having a good time! I just wish I was the one experiencing it all with him, not all these fucking strangers!” Connor bites out, then winces. “God, I’m sorry Asher. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I just miss him so much.”  
“No worries, man. I know how hard it is.” Asher shrugs. “I miss Michaela too, but at least we’re close enough that we can see each other on weekends.”  
Connor sighs. “I never thought I’d say this, but I miss high school. At least we were all together then.”  
“Yeah,” Asher grumbles, going back to his book. “and the homework wasn’t nearly as intensive as this shit.”

Thanksgiving break finally comes, but it doesn’t turn out the way Connor’s imagined it would. He’d been daydreaming of spending those few days together, wrapped up in Connor’s bedsheets and only leaving for food or toilet breaks. But Oliver’s parents want to spend as much time with him as possible, and Connor’s own mother has decided to finally take an interest in her son and has come home for the long weekend. She brings her new boyfriend with her, and Connor can’t stand him.  
“He gives me the creeps,” he tells Oliver when they’re finally able to steal a moment away together late on Thanksgiving night. They’re lying on a blanket at the usual spot on the beach, bundled up in warm clothes and hidden by the sand dunes. The air is frigid, but this is their place, where they had their first date and where they said their first “I love you” to each other, so for them it’s worth braving the cold. Especially if it means they finally get a moment alone.   
“What do you mean?” Oliver asks, concerned.  
“He just seems really slimy. Like, he’s the kind of guy who thinks he can do anything he wants. He knows how rich he is and doesn’t hesitate to let everyone else know too. Plus I’m pretty sure he’s homophobic as fuck.”  
“Has he said anything to you?” Oliver looks upset.  
“No, but every time I mention you or even hint that I’m not interested in women he gets this look on his face like he’s just smelled something bad. And I’ve caught him more than once looking at me like he thinks I’m disgusting.” Connor runs his hand through his hair, frustrated. “I can’t wait until he’s gone.”  
“I’m sorry, baby.” Oliver kisses him. “Do you want to come stay at my place for the rest of the weekend?”  
“You have no idea how much I want to say yes,” Connor tells him. “But I’d better not. I hardly ever get to see my mom, and who knows when she’ll be back in town after this weekend.” He rolls over onto his stomach and folds his arms, resting his chin on them and looking at his boyfriend. “Now, how about we do something that would make that homophobic prick’s skin crawl?”  
“Hmm, do you have anything in mind?” Oliver smirks at him.  
“Oh, I’m sure we can think of something,” Connor says dryly, his hand reaching for the button on Oliver’s pants as he leans forward and kisses him.

 

The last month of the semester is busy for both of them, and between class assignments and studying for finals they only manage to speak to each other once every few days. The lack of communication makes Connor misses Oliver even more than he did before, and he eagerly awaits the two weeks they’ll get to spend together over Christmas and New Year’s. But then Oliver calls him the night before he’s due home, and the first thing he says is “I’m so sorry.”  
“What happened?” Connor can feel his excitement diminishing from the tone of Oliver’s voice.  
“I tried to convince them to change their plans, I promise,” Oliver babbles. “I really want to see you.”  
“Oliver! What’s going on?” He tightens his grip on his phone.  
There’s a sigh, then Oliver says sadly, “They’re making me go to Canada to see relatives for the holidays. I won’t get to see you, Connor. They’re meeting me at the airport and we’re leaving right away.”  
“This is a joke, right?” Connor’s voice rises. “You’re not being serious.”  
“I wish. My cousin just had a baby so they’re making it into this whole big extended family event, with the christening and then spending Christmas and the New Year together. I’ll see if I can convince them to let me come home for a few days before I have to head back to school.” Oliver goes quiet. “I’m sorry, babe.”  
“It’s fine,” Connor is unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “I get it, family is more important than just a boyfriend.”  
“Connor you know you’re the most important person to me.” Oliver pleads with him.  
“I know. It’s just…god, I just miss you so much, Ollie.”  
“I miss you too.”  
They hang up after a few more minutes, and Connor collapses face down onto his couch, groaning in frustration before reaching for his phone again.  
“Can I spend Christmas with your family?” He asks when Michaela picks up his call.   
“You know you’re always welcome,” she tells him. “But aren’t you supposed to be spending it with Oliver?”  
“Nah, he’s going to be spending it in Canada instead.”  
Michaela is silent, then asks hesitantly, “Are you okay?”  
“Of course,” he lies. “It’s really not a big deal. I just don’t want to have to spend the day at home alone.”  
“Okay,” she sounds doubtful, but thankfully doesn’t press the issue. “I’ll have my mom set another place at the table for you.”  
“Thanks, Michaela. Love you.”  
“Likewise,” she tells him. “You’d tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn’t you?”  
“Of course I would. But everything’s fine, I promise.”  
The hang up, and Connor lays on the couch feeling sorry for himself.   
“Fuck this,” he growls, getting up and making his way to the cupboard he knows his mom stores alcohol. He pours himself a large shot of whiskey and throws it back, ignoring the burn as he refilled the shot glass. If he was going to be alone, he may as well not be sober for it.  


 

Oliver doesn’t manage to come home before he has to go back to school. Connor feels bitter, but he tries not to let the other boy know how upset he is. He doesn’t want to be clingy, hates that he feels this way after being so independent for so long, so he tries not to call Oliver as much as he did the previous semester. Oliver seems different; he’s always distracted during their now infrequent phone calls, too focused on schoolwork and his new study groups. They still text often, but their conversations are brief. Connor misses him like crazy. He knows things aren’t going well for them, but he chalks it up to the fact that they haven’t seen each other since Thanksgiving.   
_It’ll be better once we spend time together over Spring Break_ , he tells himself. _We just need to reconnect again and everything will be fine._

  
  
He calls Oliver a few weeks before the break. The phone rings several times, and Connor’s about to hang up when he suddenly hears background noise, and then Oliver’s voice.  
“Hey.” It sounds flat, and Connor can feel his heart start to sink.  
“Hey,” he feels nervous to even bring it up with Oliver. _How did we get this way?_ He thinks sadly. _He used to be my best friend.  
_ “Look, Connor, did you call for a reason? Or can I just call you back when I get a chance?”  
It hurts, hearing Oliver’s voice so detached and dismissive towards him. He’d hang up, but he knows he needs to ask before he loses his nerve. Besides, Connor knows that if he left it up to Oliver that call wouldn’t come for at least a day, if he even remembers at all.  
“Wow, sorry. Didn’t know I needed to make an appointment to call my boyfriend.” He tries to joke, to lighten the air a bit, but it comes out harsher than he’d meant it to.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just really stressed right now with school.”  
“It’s fine.” It isn’t, Connor knows that there isn’t much about him and Oliver that’s fine anymore, but it’s easier to lie than to start a fight. “Um, I was just wondering when you’re going to be home? I’m dying for some beach time with you. Among other things.”  
There’s silence, and then Oliver gives a deep sigh.  
“I’ve been so busy that totally forgot to tell you.”  
“Tell me what? Ollie plea-“  
He’s cut off by another sigh from Oliver, one that definitely turns into a frustrated sounding groan.  
“I’m sorry, Con. I meant to tell you before now. I’m staying here for Spring Break. I’ve been accepted for a work study at an IT office one of my professors has contacts with.”  
“You were accepted? Meaning it was something you applied for?”  
Another sigh comes through the phone. “This is important, Connor. It could really help influence my future.”  
“I thought I was important to you. What about _our_ future, Ollie?” He can’t keep the hurt out of his voice. “We haven’t seen each other since Thanksgiving.”  
“You **are** important to me. You’ll always be important to me. But it’s hard, okay? It’s hard to juggle the stress of my course load and my upcoming job while constantly having to deal with having a boyfriend who lives on the other side of the country.”  
“Jesus fucking Christ, Ollie, I’m your boyfriend, not something on your list of things to deal with.”  
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Oliver sounds frustrated now.  
“What are you saying, Ollie?” Connor’s shaking already, trying his hardest not to cry.  
“Maybe…maybe we need to take a break.”  
Connor hangs up without responding, his heart shattering as he sinks down with his back against the wall. He sits there, feeling numb, until he’s finally able to bring himself to move. He looks at his phone, sees that Oliver hasn’t tried to call him back.  
  **He dumped me,** he texts to Michaela, then turns his phone off and begins to sob.  


Michaela sends Asher to cheer him up, but Asher’s idea of distraction is watching superhero movies that Connor doesn’t give a shit about. He knows Asher means well though, so he doesn’t complain and sits through them quietly. And if he adds a bit more rum to his rum and cokes than he usually would, well, Asher doesn’t need to know. Michaela comes over the minute she gets home for the break, bringing along a large tub of Connor’s favorite ice cream.  
“We’re going to eat our feelings,” she tells him. “It always helps.”  
It doesn’t, though. But Connor doesn’t tell her that, because he doesn’t want her to worry about him. He pretends he’s okay while he’s with his friends, but he drinks himself to sleep most nights.

School starts again, and Connor throws himself into finish off his semester with passing grades in all his classes, limiting himself to only drinking on weekends. And then school is over and Connor tries not to think about how different everything was this time last summer.

There’s a bar in the next town that never checks IDs, so Connor makes the thirty-minute drive to get fucked up. And hopefully get fucked. He wants someone to erase the ghost of Oliver’s hands from his skin.  
It doesn’t work though. He lets a stranger fuck him in the bathroom, but it’s Oliver’s name that slips from his lips as he comes, and he’s suddenly struggling to hold back tears. The man finishes and leaves without saying a word. And Connor’s hooked up with more guys than he can remember, but this is the one that leaves him feeling cheap and used. He calls a cab, because he knows he’s had several drinks too many, and he curls up in the back seat and cries the entire way home.  
His hangover feels like it lasts days, but he doesn’t care because he deserves it. He deserves to feel like shit for thinking that hooking up with a stranger would ever compare to how it felt with Ollie.   
He’s never had his heart broken before, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He doesn’t know how to fix it. So he lets himself wallow in his misery. He avoids his friends who are back in town and gets drunk from whatever alcohol he’s able to find in the cupboards. He knows his mom won’t care – it’s been months since she’s been home. All he hears from her is a weekly text letting him know where she’s headed next. She never asks him what he’s up to, and he sure as fuck isn’t going to tell her that his heart feels like it’s been fucking obliterated.   
He’s drunk and angry one night, so he ends up leaving a voicemail on Oliver’s phone, the first time he’s tried to contact him since Oliver told him he didn’t have time for him anymore.  
“Fuck you, Oliver. Honestly, fuck you! I hate you for doing this.” He feels a sob building up inside of him. “No, that’s a lie. I’m sorry. I could never hate you. I love you so much Ollie, I - ”  
The realization that maybe it wasn’t a sob threatening to spill out of him happens a little bit too late, and he’s suddenly heaving. He barely manages to make it to the kitchen sink before he starts throwing up. Once he’s done, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve and groans. “Fuck, I definitely drank too much.”  
And then he glances to the side and sees his abandoned phone, and he feels nauseated all over again. He hadn’t hung up the call, which means that the guy who dumped him got to hear him crying and puking his guts out until the recording ran out.  
He’s pretty sure this is one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. Possibly even worse than the time he peed the bed at a sleepover in third grade. The entire school had known by recess the following Monday, and Connor was bullied so mercilessly he’d begged his parents to let him change schools. They didn’t, because apparently spending your childhood being tormented on a daily basis builds character or something, but then his dad got transferred the following year, so he got to move away and start over.   
He remembers his first day of school, remembers being anxious until he realized that the school already had an easy target for bullying. Oliver. Connor knew what it felt like to be bullied, but he never tried to help Oliver. The guilt feels like it’s crushing him, and the part of his brain that knows he’s going to regret this in the morning is screaming at him, but he ignores it as he picks up his phone again and types out a text to Oliver. He presses send before he can change his mind.  
**I’m sorry about that voicemail. I’m sorry about everything, Ollie. You were right to end it. I’m not good enough for you. I know that.**  
He knows he should leave it at that, but he can’t stop himself from sending another message.  
**I really hope you’re happy. I love you.**

He doesn’t hear back from Oliver.


	5. Chapter 5

The thing about living in a small town is, it's really hard to completely avoid driving by your ex's house. And okay, maybe sometimes Connor deliberately takes that route, but it's not like it matters, really. He knows Oliver isn't there. Knows that he's across the country meeting new people that aren't Connor, and having experiences that Connor will never get to be a part of. And it hurts, it really fucking hurts.

It's two days after the embarrassing drunk message debacle, and he takes the route past Oliver's house to the beach. It's completely dark, without Oliver there to keep his bedroom light burning all night as he works on his computer. Connor speeds up and soon reaches the beach. He pulls into the deserted parking lot and grabs the bottle of whiskey he’d brought with him. It’s the beginning of summer, but it's still a little cold at nighttime, so he wraps his jacket tighter around himself as he makes his way down onto the sand. It isn't hard to find _their_ spot, tucked away between some dunes - Connor's pretty sure he could find it with his eyes closed, given how much time they spent there the previous summer, wrapped up in each other. He feels a tug at his heart, like some last little piece of it is breaking. Which is... odd, since Connor had been pretty damn sure there wasn't anything left of his heart to break. Oliver had done a pretty fucking good job at completely shattering it when he'd walked away.

"Get a grip, Walsh," he mumbles to himself as he settles into the sand and twists off the bottle cap. He takes a long swig and winces at the burn. And then he keeps drinking, because it burns but at least the burn in his throat distracts from the aching in his heart. _How did it all go so wrong?_ He wonders miserably. _How was it so easy for Oliver to move on?_ Because he has moved on, Connor knows he has. He’s going to school in California, meeting tons of new people, and Connor’s noticed the same guy appearing in quite a few of the recent pictures Oliver has posted on Instagram. He isn’t proud of it, but he’d spent a good ten minutes going through that guy’s Instagram as well. His name is Ethan, and, in Connor’s opinion, he’s a fucking tool. Connor hates him without even knowing him. He’s not Oliver’s type either – too much of a frat boy – and deep down he wonders if Oliver went after Ethan because he’s the complete opposite of everything Connor is.

He takes another sip of his whiskey, then lays back and stares up at the stars. Memories come rushing forward of nights spent here with Oliver, the other boy trying to point out the different constellations while Connor distracts him with kisses. But this time he’s alone, and he takes a deep shuddering breath before he finally allows himself to succumb to the tears that have been threatening to spill all night.

Connor wakes up to the sound of waves crashing and seagulls flying overhead. He’s confused for a moment, then he notices the empty bottle of whiskey beside him and realizes he’d fallen asleep while drinking on the beach. It’s now been three days since he had embarrassed himself with the messages he left for Oliver, and he still hasn’t heard from him. Which is completely expected, he thinks. He’s pretty sure Oliver is one hundred percent done with his pathetic ass. He drags himself home and collapses into bed, too tired to bother showering and rinsing the sand off of him.

It’s Wes who finally breaks Connor from his slump. He shows up a day later and invites himself to move in with Connor for a week of forced sobriety and any distractions Wes can think of. They play video games and stream shows on Netflix for hours, and when the heartbreak gets too much to bear, he just hugs Connor and lets his friend cry into his shoulder. He finally forces Connor out of the house and to a movie night at Michaela’s house with the rest of the group. They all greet Connor with bright smiles and anxious eyes, and he hates it. He hates that his friends think of him as something to handle with delicacy because they’re afraid he’s going to break at any moment.  
“It’s okay you guys,” he says, as he takes a seat in his usual spot on the couch. “I think I lost myself for a while there, but I’m okay. I promise.”  
They relax after that, and he finds himself having fun and genuinely laughing for the first time in what feels like forever. The night goes better than Connor had imagined, and he’s so, so grateful for his friends.  
Michaela corners him in the kitchen while everyone is getting ready to leave.  
“Hey, Con, are you really doing okay?” She puts a hand on his arm and squeezes gently. He nods, and she continues, “We were worried about you. We all knew you were upset, but none of us really knew how bad it was until Oliver told Wes about the message you left him, and - ”  
“Wait.” Conner pulls away from her, his emotions jumping all over the place. “That’s why Wes moved in? Oliver told him to?”  
“Well, no, Wes decided to do that on his own. But Oliver was really concerned about you, Con.”  
“So why didn’t he call me himself? Why hasn’t he even tried to contact me?”  
She shrugs, looking at him sympathetically. “I don’t know, babe. But at least he cared enough to let us know.”  
He knows better, but he lets himself get his hopes up anyway. At least a little bit. Oliver still cares enough about him to worry about his wellbeing, which is…comforting, in an odd and slightly pathetic way, he thinks.

He works on getting better. He throws out any alcohol left in his house and starts working out again. He and Asher go running every morning, and Michaela joins them occasionally. He hangs out with his friends most nights, but he finds that he’s okay being alone, too. And he’s happy. He’s really, genuinely, happy.  
  
That’s when Oliver shows up, of course. It’s late June, and Connor’s heading home after making a run to the grocery store. He’s driving past Oliver’s house, as it’s the fastest route, and he notices Oliver’s bedroom curtains are open for the first time all year. And then he sees Oliver. His back is to the window and he doesn’t notice Connor, but he speeds up anyway because he doesn’t want to be caught watching him.  
He gets a call from Laurel the next day, and he can tell she’s nervous.  
“Um, I just wanted to let you know that Oliver’s coming to the beach with us today. He’s back in town and he wanted to see everyone.”  
“It’s fine,” Connor tells her. “I know he’s back. I drove past his house yesterday and saw him.”  
“Are you sure it’s okay if he comes? If you really don’t want to see him we can just tell him not to come and we’ll see him another time. I’m sure he’d understand.”  
“Don’t do that, Laurel. It’s fine, I promise. I’m doing better now.”  
“Okay.” She sounds doubtful, but takes him at his word. “Well, I’ll see you later, then.”  
“Later.”  
He's not devastated or desperate for Oliver anymore, but he still takes his time making sure his hair looks perfect. No harm in making sure he looks good in front of his ex, he reasons.  
  
Everyone is already at the beach by the time Connor arrives. He suddenly feels flustered when he sees Oliver, but he takes a deep breath and walks over to the group.  
Oliver stays back while the others greet Connor. His brow is furrowed, like he’s thinking hard about something. _Or maybe he’s just trying to avoid having to talk to you_ , Connor thinks, his heart aching for a moment. He forces himself to act confident, to not let Oliver’s presence rattle him and undo all the progress he’s made.  
Michaela sticks to his side, making sure he’s okay, and Connor is so grateful to have her as his best friend. But then Asher runs over, swooping her up and running into the ocean with her, whooping the entire way. The rest of the group races after them, and Connor is about to follow, when he feels a hand touch his wrist. It’s just a brief touch, but it feels like it sets fire to his skin. He turns back and looks at his ex-boyfriend, eyebrows raised.  
“Hey Connor, can we talk?” Oliver looks nervous.  
Connor wants to be strong, to blow him off, tell him that he has nothing to say to him, but he finds himself nodding instead. “Sure.”  
They walk a little way down the beach, so they wouldn’t be interrupted if the others came back. Oliver sits down in the sand and Connor follows his lead.  
“How have you been?”  
“I’m doing fine.”  
“Good,” Oliver smiles slightly. “That’s good. I was worried about you, after you left that message.”  
“Yeah, Michaela told me you called them.” Connor scratches the back of his neck just to have something to do with his hands. “I just… why didn’t you call _me_ , if you were so worried?”  
“I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me, to be honest. I know I hurt you, Connor, and I’m so sorry for that.” He turns to look at Connor. “I miss you. I know I don’t have the right to say that, but it’s true.”  
Connor looks down. “What about Ethan?”  
“How do you know about Ethan? You know what, never mind, it doesn’t matter.” Oliver pauses for a moment before he continues. “Ethan wasn’t anyone important. He was in a couple of my classes and after you and I broke up I went out with him a couple of times. It didn’t mean anything though, because all I could think about was that he wasn’t you. I still love you Connor, and I hate myself for pushing you away. I’m so fucking sorry that I hurt you. I’m so, so fucking sorry.”  
Connor wants to cry. He’d spent so many months thinking that Oliver had stopped loving him completely, and to hear him say the opposite feels overwhelming.  
“I miss you too, Ollie.”  
“So…” Oliver’s voice trails off.  
“Where do we go from here?” Connor offers, and Oliver nods. “I don’t know, to be honest. I love you so much, Oliver, but I just don’t think that being together would be a good idea right now.”  
“That’s fair.” Oliver sounds sad.  
“I’m not ruling out us being together in the future,” Connor tells him. “In fact, I’d very much like for that to happen. I just…I completely lost sight of myself, Oliver. You were the first person I ever seriously dated, let alone fell in love with. I let everything revolve around you.”  
“And that wasn’t your fault,” he hurries to add when he sees Oliver frown. “I didn’t know how to handle being in a relationship. I threw myself into it, into us, and I lost track of everything I wanted outside of our relationship. I completely fell apart when it ended. I became someone I didn’t like at all, because I’d lost sight of who I was by myself. I can’t let that happen again.”  
He pauses for a moment. “What’s going to happen when you go back to school? Is it just going to be a repeat of this past year? Because if it is then I think we should just stick to being friends.”  
“No,” Oliver shakes his head vehemently. “It won’t be. I’m planning on coming home for every break, and if we’re together I’ll find a way to come home for the weekend a few times too.”  
“Okay.” Connor nods, then tilts his head to look at Oliver. “Let’s take it slow. Maybe…maybe we can try just hanging out for a while, without jumping right back into a relationship?”  
“So we’ll be friends, with potential?”  
Connor nods, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Exactly.”

  
Oliver starts hanging out with the group again, and he and Connor work on building a friendship. It’s hard some days, being around Oliver but not being able to just reach out for him any time he wants, but Connor knows it’s for the best. Knows that if he and Oliver are ever going to be able to make it as a couple, he needs to not be as dependent on the other boy as his source of happiness like he was before.  
Oliver takes Connor’s request for time seriously. He texts Connor every time the group plans on hanging out, asking if Connor is okay with him joining them. Connor always tells him yes, and he pulls him aside one day when they’re all at Wes’s house.  
“You know you don’t need to ask my permission to hang out, right?”  
Oliver looks embarrassed, and he shrugs. “You asked for space. I know I hurt you, and I know there might be times when you don’t want me around. I just want you to know that I _do_ care about how you feel, Connor. If you don’t want me to hang out sometimes, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”  
Connor surprises them both when he pulls Oliver into a hug. He steps back, feeling his cheeks heat up.  
“That’s sweet of you, Ollie, but you really don’t need to worry. It’s nice, having you around again.”  
The way Oliver’s face lights up makes his heart skip a beat, and Connor smiles bashfully back at him. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Oliver’s cheek, then turns to head back inside.  
“Come on,” he calls over his shoulder. “We’re going to miss the start of the movie.”  


 

Connor’s pretty sure he’s dying. He blinks his eyes open, taking in the soft rays of morning light streaming in through the window and lighting his room. He feels like he’s burning up, and his entire body aches. His throat feels parched, so he forces himself out of bed and stumbles into the bathroom, sticking his head under the tap to drink some water because he feels too ill to make his way downstairs to the kitchen. He’s drenched in sweat, so he strips naked and collapses back onto his bed, laying on top of the covers because just the thought of having to get under them makes him want to cry.  
He falls into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning in an attempt to find an angle that doesn’t make his body ache. He ends up on his back, limbs stretched out, and finally manages to fall into a deep sleep.  
He’s woken again by the sound of someone calling his name, but it sounds far away, like his head is in a fog or something. The voice gets closer, and he hears footsteps in the hallway. He’d left his bedroom door open after he’d come back from the bathroom, too weak to bother trying to close it, and Oliver appears, looking around the doorframe cautiously. He spots Connor and immediately hurries to his bedside.  
“Are you okay? You’re covered in sweat!” his eyes move down Connor’s body and he blushes. “And wow, you’re completely naked.”  
“Don’t act like you don’t like it,” Connor tries to joke, but he ends up coughing and winces in pain.  
“Shh, don’t speak,” Oliver feels his forehead. “You’re burning up. I’m gonna get you an ice pack and some water.”  
Connor nods, then closes his eyes again. He must have fallen asleep, because the next time he opens his eyes there’s a glass of water next to his bed and a cold compress laying on the pillow next to him. He can hear Oliver out in the hallway, speaking softly.  
“I found him drenched in sweat. He’s running a really high fever…I don’t want to leave him alone.” There’s silence, then Oliver speaks again. “No, you guys go ahead without us, it’s fine.”  
He says something else that Connor can’t make out, then says goodbye to whoever he’s speaking to and comes back into Connor’s room. He smiles when he notices Connor is awake.  
“Hey, how’re you feeling?” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and Connor scoots over to give him room.  
“I don’t feel like I’m dying anymore, but I still feel like shit.”  
Oliver gives him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, you don’t look too great right now.”  
“Gee, thanks.” But he smiles at Oliver, to show him that he isn’t actually offended. “Who were you talking to?”  
“Oh, that was Laurel. They’re planning on heading into the city for the day…no one could get hold of you so I volunteered to come find you. And, well, you’re clearly not up to going out anywhere.”  
“You should go, Ollie. I’m not going to be much fun today.”  
“I don’t care.” Oliver shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re this sick. And besides, I’d much rather spend the day with you, regardless of what we do.”  
Connor feels his heart skip a beat. “Thanks for taking care of me.”  
“Anytime. You know that.”  
They look at each other, hints of a smile on both of their faces.  
“Now, why don’t you go have a shower and put on some pants for God’s sake. I’ll make us something to eat and we can watch a movie or something.”  
“You don’t like looking at my dick?” Connor feigns shock, and Oliver laughs.  
“Shut up. Go have your shower and meet me downstairs.”

There’s a bowl of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwich waiting for him on the living room table when he makes his way downstairs, hair still wet from his shower and wearing the pair of sweatpants that he knows is just a little too tight on him, but they make his ass look great so he refuses to get rid of them. Plus, Oliver used to love when he wore them back when they were dating.  
And apparently, Oliver still loves him in them, if the way he gulps when he sees Connor is any indication.  
“I, um, I made you some food. Don’t worry if you can’t finish it, just eat what you can.”  
“Thanks, Ol.”  
_I love you_ , he wants to add, but he holds it back.  
They sit on opposite ends of the couch while they both eat. Connor doesn’t have an appetite at all, but he hasn’t eaten all day, so he forces himself to finish the soup and eat half the sandwich. He still doesn’t have much energy, so he curls up on his end of the couch, trying to get comfortable. Oliver leans over and rests a hand on Connor’s arm.  
“Hey, come here.”  
He motions for Connor to stretch out on the couch, and Connor gladly obliges, laying down and resting his head on Oliver’s lap. Oliver runs a hand through Connor’s still damp hair, and Connor reaches out and takes hold of his other hand, linking their fingers together. He hears Oliver’s breath catch, and he turns his head to look up at him.  
“Thank you, Ollie. You don’t know how much it means to me that you stayed to look after me today.”  
Oliver looks down at him fondly, eyes soft. “I’ll always look after you, babe. I love you.”  
Connor doesn’t hesitate, just wraps an arm around his neck and pulls his head down, then cranes his head up to meet Oliver’s part way. Their lips meet, and Connor knows it’s cheesy as hell but he thinks it feels like coming home.  
“I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t have done that right now. Don’t want to risk getting you sick too,” he says sheepishly.  
“I really, really don’t care.” Oliver barely gets the words out before he’s leaning down to kiss Connor again.  
Their kiss deepens, and Connor shifts himself so he’s sitting in Oliver’s lap, legs still stretched out across the couch. He strokes the side of Oliver’s face as they kiss, feels the hint of stubble beneath his fingertips. Oliver wraps his arms around him, pulling him closer so Connor’s bare chest is pressed against him. Connor breaks their kiss and tugs at Oliver’s shirt, pulling it up.  
“Off. Take it off.”  
Oliver gladly obliges him, while Connor scoots down the couch until he’s laying down, his head resting on the opposite arm of the couch.  
“C’mere,” he crooks his finger, calling Oliver over to him.  
They both have to lay sideways in order to fit on the couch together, but it works. Connor’s back is pressed against the couch, his bare chest pressed against Oliver’s. Oliver rests his hand on Connor’s waist, his thumb drawing circles on Connor’s hip.  
Their faces are so close that they can feel each other’s breath, and Connor thinks he could drown in Oliver’s deep brown eyes. He inches his head forward and pecks his lips quickly, then settles down to stare into his eyes again.  
“So, um,” Oliver finally speaks. “Is it safe to assume we’re progressing on from ‘just friends’? Because if not I think we need to discuss what normal friendships usually do or do not involve.”  
Connor laughs. “Yeah, I don’t think you and I are capable of being just friends.”  
They kiss again, then Connor rests his head against Oliver’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering shut as he drifts off to sleep.  
  
It's dark when he wakes up again. Oliver is asleep, arms still wrapped around Connor, and Connor wishes he could stay like this, but he really, really needs to pee. So he slips out of Oliver’s arms, trying not to disturb him, and climbs off the end of the couch. He hears Oliver stir behind him, and his muffled voice asking, “where’re you going?”  
“Just going to the restroom,” he bends down and presses a kiss against Oliver’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”  
“’Kay.” Oliver nods, smiling sleepily up at Connor.  
Oliver’s sitting up by the time he returns, and he wraps an arm around Connor’s shoulders as he curls up against his side.  
“You doing okay?”  
“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks again for being here and taking care of me.”  
“Of course.”  
They switch on the tv, but neither one of them really pays much attention to whatever show is on. They cuddle and steal quick kisses between whispers of how much they love each other. It feels like it did last year, before Oliver left for school, and Connor is so happy he feels like his heart could burst.  
“We need to talk about what we’re going to do when summer’s over.” Oliver says suddenly. “I can’t lose you again, Connor.”  
“I want to be with you again. But if we do this, Ollie, I need it to be for keeps. I know no one can guarantee forever, but I need to know that we’re at least going to fight for us.”  
Oliver nods vigorously. “I’m in this one hundred percent. Fuck, I’ll transfer to school here so we can be together, if that’s what you want.”  
“No, Ollie. You’ve wanted to go to Stanford since you were a kid. I’m not going to take that away from you. But maybe…maybe we can make more of an effort to see each other this year? Like, not just plan to see each other over the holidays. I’ll come visit you sometimes. And you said before that you’d be willing to come home more often, right?”  
Oliver nods again, “Yeah, of course.”  
“Okay.” Connor nods once. “Okay, so we’ll work on being better at this whole long distance thing. And we’ll see how it goes. Then maybe I can apply to a school out there for next year. I looked at some schools near San Francisco last year, before we broke up. And, um, I’d need to work on bringing my GPA up, but I was thinking of applying to law school eventually.”  
“That sounds amazing, Connor.” Oliver says, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “You’d make a great lawyer. You’ll charm everyone into taking your side in court. And hey, I could always hack into your school’s system and change your grades for you, if you’d like.”  
Connor laughs. “Nah, I think I’d like to work on improving myself properly. Thanks though.”

They make it through the next year, more in love than ever, and the following summer Connor makes the move to California. They’d found an apartment together during Connor’s last visit, and Oliver has his stuff moved in before Connor arrives. They go furniture shopping together, bickering like an old married couple. When Connor points it out, Oliver stops laughing and looks at him.  
“We could be, you know.”  
“Could be what? We’ve still got quite a few years left before we can be considered old.”  
“For God’s sake, Connor, stop being so difficult for once!” Oliver snaps, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth so Connor just sticks his tongue out at him. “I meant, we could be married. Not right now, obviously, but…well, haven’t you ever thought about it?”  
“The thought of marriage hasn’t ever really crossed my mind,” he lies, thinking of the ring he’d seen a few months before, the one he was currently saving up to buy. “But who knows, maybe one day I’ll meet someone I’ll like enough to settle down with.”  
“Oh fuck off,” Oliver pushes him away, pretending to be upset.  
“Come on, baby,” Connor pulls Oliver close. “You know that you’re it for me. I was yours the moment you dropped your books all over that parking lot.”  
Oliver groans. “I was so fucking mortified when that happened!”  
“I know,” Connor laughs, remembering how red Oliver’s face had been. “But, no offence babe, I’m so glad you’re the biggest klutz in the world.”  
“You know what?” Oliver says, kissing him right there in the middle of Ikea, “So am I.”


End file.
